


Full Bloom

by VoidGhost



Series: Widofjord Week 2k19 [6]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (but its the bad guy), Brainwashing, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Confessions, First Kiss, M/M, POV Fjord (Critical Role), Paladin Fjord, Soulmates, but with magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 10:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19332790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidGhost/pseuds/VoidGhost
Summary: Things had gone so bad, so quickly.They knew that Ikithon had eyes on them. They knew that his little army of Scourgers could fall on them any day now. They knew they were prepared, because Caleb told them everything they could expect.But they didn’t know that Ikithon could turn one of their own against them.





	Full Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> day 6: soulmates!  
> i had things the last two days last week (like going to pride lmao) so this one's coming out today and the other might be out tomorrow? we'll see. 
> 
> hope yall enjoy this one <3

Things had gone so bad, so quickly. 

They knew that Ikithon had eyes on them. They knew that his little army of Scourgers could fall on them any day now. They  _ knew  _ they were prepared, because Caleb told them everything they could expect.

But they didn’t know that Ikithon could turn one of their own against them. 

Fjord was hunched behind some scattered debris - used to be a house, probably - and the Wildmother’s influence on him was new, for sure, but he had never prayed for his patron harder than in this moment. 

Beside him, Caduceus was trying to cast healing spells as far away from combat as he could. Somewhere, Nott was invisible shooting off arrows wherever she could. He could hear the distant sounds of Beau and Yasha fighting off the mages, and he was sure Jester was kicking ass somewhere. 

There was the crackling of fire on grass nearby. The sound of it and where it had come from sent chills down Fjord’s spine. The burns on his leg groaned at the thought.

And to think. Just this morning, Caleb had cornered him and confessed some secrets that had been in his mind all day. 

“Just before we go, Fjord,” Caleb had said, a hand on his wrist that short-circuited Fjord’s brain for a few seconds. “I just want to say something before we go.” 

Then his hand shifted to lace their fingers together, and Caleb took a step forward, his head tilting up to keep Fjord’s eye. His other hand, the one with the scar, gripped the back of Fjord’s neck. 

“I appreciate you,” He said, and this time, there was a weight to the words that was never there before, admitting something else that Fjord was not prepared to face. 

Then he rocked on his toes and tilted his chin and suddenly it was too much, too fast. The scar was throbbing on his palm and his chest swelled with emotions that made his hair stand on end. He felt  _ love,  _ of all things, and it was coming from  _ Caleb _ , but next to that he felt  _ fear _ . From himself. 

And Caleb must have felt it too, because he dropped his hands and took a step back. Fjord gasped in a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding until it felt like a splash of cold water to the face. Caleb’s face was twisted and turned in a way that made Fjord’s stomach clench. 

“Caleb--” Fjord reached out and gripped his hand before he could make a run for it. The surge of emotions ran through his blood again, but it was bearable. “Listen. I want to talk about this. But can we wait until this is done and over with?”

After a tense moment when it felt like the energy building inside Fjord would burst, Caleb eventually nodded. Their hands split, and Fjord breathed a sigh of relief as the connection they shared lessened in intensity. Caleb seemed bothered by it, too; his forehead had a sheen of sweat and his chest heaved. 

They separated after that, and the buzzing on his palm had never ceased. 

But it was now, in this moment, that Fjord wished he had kissed the man when he had the chance. 

When they finally faced Ikithon and his warmages, it was exactly as Caleb described. Astrid and Eodwulf were there, of course, two lackeys on either side of the Master, but there were others. Masked Scourgers, an army meant for a king. 

And a king was what Ikithon thought he was. The Scourgers protected him with their lives, and there weren’t any doubts that these people had been manipulated just like Caleb had been. 

Speaking of. Ikithon had locked sights with Caleb from the first moment they stepped on the battlefield. And it was with only a wave of his hand, a beckoning, towards Caleb that took him from them. 

While Fjord was locked with one of the masked Scourgers, his palm suddenly flared. He cast a glance over his shoulder in time to see Caleb fall to his knees, his hands gripping his hair. Fjord couldn’t help the fierce protectiveness that tore through him at seeing Astrid slide a hand across his shoulders, bend down to whisper in his ear. 

He cast Misty Step without a thought (and thank the Wildmother that he still had access to that particular spell), abandoning his prior opponent to shove Astrid away from what was  _ his _ (and that thought came without any hesitation, and afterwards, he didn’t regret it). 

Fjord was ready to send a bulgaria after her if only to get her off their backs, when Caleb suddenly straightened, his shoulders drawn and an odd order to his movements. When he turned, Fjord blanched. 

His eyes did not lack the familiar buzz of arcane energy, but the effects of an enchantment were written all over his deadened expression. 

_ This isn’t Caleb _ , Fjord realized at the same moment he felt their connection numb.  _ This is Bren _ . 

Then there was fire in his face, and he woke up behind some rubble with Caduceus pressing warm hands to his side. 

Which left him here, wondering which direction he was going. His falchion sprung into existence, this time curled with vines around the handle and a green tinged lily blossom at the pommel. It was a welcome change to the looming threat of the ocean sucking him back in. 

He chanced a glance over the wall of debris. A flaming wall of fire had separated the battlefield. Beau was locked in a fight with one of the Scourgers and appearing to be winning, despite the ash smeared across half her face. Yasha already had unconscious bodies littered around her, her shoulders heaving and her eyes red-ringed as she took on her next opponent who looked two seconds from fleeing. 

As Fjord surveyed the field, he caught it: a space in the wall. It flickered, vanishing every half-second, but it was there. 

A hopeful part of his mind thought,  _ it’s for you _ . 

He shook it away and knelt back behind the wall, turning to Caduceus. 

“I’m gonna make a run for it,” He said. 

Caduceus nodded. “Be careful.” 

Before he went, he pressed a hand to Caduceus’ shoulder and called out to his newfound powers of the Wildmother. He felt the warm power flow through him and into his ally, a breeze of freshly overturned dirt and cut wood brushing past the both of them. 

Caduceus sighed and smiled as the effects of  _ Bless  _ settled. “Thank you.” 

Fjord patted his shoulder and crawled to the edge of their barrier. He waited until he saw that flicker again, the space in the wall that he had to time just right. The moment he saw it, he ran. 

He dodged between Scourgers and castaway spells, taking a few hits along the way. He was almost there when a pole swung out and clotheslined him across the throat. 

Fjord heaved as the breath was knocked out of him. Above him, he caught the familiar face of Astrid, scowling down at him. She twisted the pole in her hands, similar to Beau’s staff, and it turned into a long hooked sword that mirrored Fjord’s falchion. 

She held it above her head and swung down. Fjord had enough time to roll out of the way, letting her magical weapon sink into the dirt. Fjord hopped up and swung out his falchion, hitting air as she backed out of range.  _ Quick _ . 

“So you’re the ones who took our Bren away from us,” Astrid hissed, an empty grin on her face. “Do you have any idea what potential you pulled away from him? What he could’ve accomplished if you hadn’t fucked it all up?”

_ Potential  _ rung in Fjord’s head and he saw red. He swung again and she easily dodged, her grin grating on his already strung-out nerves. 

“You want nothing but control,” Fjord said, words he wished he could say to his previous patron. “Any power you have to offer is not good enough for him and never will be.” 

Astrid snarled like she took a personal offence. She twisted her fists around the pommel of the sword and a crackle of lightning ran across the blade, casting her face in sharp shadows. She didn’t hesitate to bring the sword down on him. 

Fjord dodged by hitting the sword away with his own falchion. A string of lightning crackled down his sword and shocked his hand, but it wasn’t enough to stun him. 

“This isn’t about  _ power _ ,” Astrid snarled, lightning wrapping up her arms to the elbows. “He’s  _ family _ . You took him away from us.” She swung her sword downward, an arc of lightning flying off the tip.

It hit squarely in Fjord’s chest, momentarily locking up his muscles and singeing the ends of his leather armor. He spit blood when the episode passed, not remembering biting his lip. 

“We’re just lucky that Master Ikithon could fix him,” Astrid continued, something smug in her tone that dug directly into Fjord’s nerves. 

“You ain’t fixing him,” Fjord said, feeling a surge of the Wildmother’s warmth run through him. “You’re  _ hurting  _ him.” 

The tip of his falchion began to give a gleaming light as he ran at her, raising it over his head. With a yell of anger, and a cool breeze running past him as if guiding him, he swung the falchion down. 

The second contact was made, the falchion gave a burst of light that momentarily blinded him. He heard a brief shout of pain that abruptly cut off. Fjord stumbled back until he could blink the spots from his eyes, and when he could see clearly again, Astrid was gone. 

A soft voice in his mind reminded him,  _ she won’t be gone for long _ . 

Fjord regained his footing and faced the wall of fire again. His eyes couldn’t pinpoint the opening for a few seconds, and he began to wonder if he imagined it. Then - it was there. 

He took off, his heels kicking up dirt and grass as he made for the opening. When he finally reached it, he curled up and leaped. 

The flames licked his appendages and he knew he had a few burns as he tumbled to the ground on the other side - but he was generally less affected than he would be by leaping through the solid wall of fire. 

“Fjord!” A high voice rang out to him. 

So it wasn’t just Caleb that got stuck on the other side of the wall. Looking up, he could see Jester, surrounded by her floating unicorns and her lollipop swinging down on the Scourgers that threatened her. 

A stab of worry ran through him, but he knew by now that Jester could handle herself. Regaining his footing, he looked around to the rest of the separated field. 

On the other side of the wall, most of the Scourgers were cut off to fight the rest of them. There weren’t nearly as many on this side, but there was enough that kept Jester busy and away from what truly mattered: Ikithon himself, watching as Caleb studiously wrote something in the dirt. 

“Fjord!” Jester repeated. “Get Cay-leb!” He watched her clutch her pendant of the Traveler, and he felt the burns and the damage dealt from Astrid stitch up with a burst of warmth. In his head, he heard Jester murmur,  _ Be safe _ . 

In return, Fjord threw out a spell of his own, watching as a couple flowers bloomed up from beneath Jester’s feet. He saw her grin at him, giving a wave before letting out an angry yell, her lollipop swinging down on the enemies with hardened resolve. 

He returned his attention to Caleb. As he approached, he felt the familiar throbbing in the scar on his palm, and it only urged him to move faster. 

Ikithon caught his eye. With an unimpressed look, he snapped his fingers. Caleb snapped his head up from what he was drawing in the dirt, and now that Fjord was closer, he saw the familiar markings of a teleportation circle, similar to the one they had in their very own home, linking to the tower on the Coast. 

_ They’re trying to escape _ , Fjord thought, fire lancing up his arm. 

“We have company, Bren,” Ikithon said, simply. “Deal with it.” 

Caleb stood without argument, his expression still lacking recognition or any hint that the enchantment might be failing. He lifted a hand and Fjord prepared to duck. 

As expected, a fire bolt landed somewhere behind him, lighting a patch of grass on fire. Fjord held his falchion up defensively, unsure how to do this. 

“Caleb,” He tried, and grunted as he deflected another bolt. 

He thought back to the succubus, how later, he found out Yasha’s blow to Caleb was what knocked the charm off him. He didn’t want to hurt Caleb, but if it came down to that…  

“Hurry up,” Ikithon’s sharp voice cut through the fight. “We do not have all day.” 

Caleb had momentarily took his eyes off Fjord to listen to his old Master, and that is when Fjord was struck with an idea. If he wanted to snap Caleb out of this, he needed some distance from the one manipulating him. 

Fjord ran the remaining gap between them and hooked an arm around Caleb’s waist, intending to cast another Misty Step and get the hell outta dodge--

When he felt the spell fizzle and die on his palm. It took him a moment to realize he had just been hit with a counter spell. Caleb’s fingers burned hot with arcane energy as he wrenched Fjord’s hands from him and shoved him away. 

Next best thing. Fjord raised the falchion, silently apologizing in advance as he swung down. 

Caleb threw an arm up in time to cast a shield, deflecting the falchion off to the side in a flare of arcane sparks. Fjord muttered a curse. 

“ _ Caleb _ ,” Fjord reduced to begging. “C’mon, you know me. It’s time to snap out of it.” 

His pleading fell on deaf ears. Caleb’s hands formed complicated runes in the air and Fjord could feel the heat before the spell completed. A miniature sphere collected between his hands and Fjord would recognize a fireball anywhere, having been on the receiving end of one already. 

Another subtle breeze blew past him and Fjord heard a whisper in his ear,  _ act now _ . 

Stepping forward without completely knowing what he was doing, Fjord clasped both of Caleb’s hands, flinching at the heat - it felt like grabbing a hot stove. He summoned the Wildmother’s will through him and pulled Caleb close, pressing their foreheads together. His scar was already throbbing, but now it was painful, like a blister trying to pop. 

He heard Caleb gasp as the spell flowed through him. Now Fjord just had to hope it stuck. Caleb’s chest heaved like he was struggling to breathe and his hands shook, the heat of his fireball spell draining. He clenched and unclenched Fjord’s hands as if fighting against the enchantment. 

“You promised we’d talk after this,” Fjord said, low enough to be said between them only. “I’m holding you to that.” 

Caleb’s hands tightened around Fjord’s until it was almost painful. He looked up at Fjord, his entire body shaking and sweat dripping down his forehead. “Fjord?” 

Fjord grinned, heaving a laugh as he tugged Caleb closer. He was about to nuzzle into the top of his hair, when he heard a sharp snap in the air. 

“ _ Ermendrud, _ ” Ikithon shouted, and Caleb tensed. Fjord felt the buzz of the enchantment in the air around them, and Fjord tugged him closer, as if to protect him. “You  _ will  _ finish this job or I will. Understood?” 

Caleb began trying to tug away from the embrace, his breathing picking up again as the magic kept him under its hold. Fjord held strong, glaring over the top of Caleb’s head to Ikithon’s dreadful form. 

Calling on his newfound powers, Fjord pressed his lips, buzzing with magical energy, against Caleb’s forehead. The warmth sunk in through the kiss and through their hands, and Caleb relaxed marginally. 

“I appreciate you,” Fjord said, heavy in his words. “More than that, now. And I need you to come back to me.” 

He was sure that his  _ dispel  _ took root this time, as Caleb looked up at him with a soft, tired smile. The emotions that rolled through him were near overwhelming, like a dam breaking to an overflowing river, but this time Fjord felt relief. Caleb rocked up on his toes and Fjord did not pull away as their lips pressed together, meeting with a soft hum and their hands clasped, scars burning with energy that Fjord couldn’t explain. 

And then there was something like a tether, or a puzzle piece that finally slipped into place, and Fjord felt like he  _ belonged _ . 

When they pulled away, Fjord felt dizzy. And by the way Caleb swayed, it wasn’t just him. 

“Bren Aldric Ermendrud,” Came Ikithon’s thunderous voice. “Quit it with this ridiculous game of yours.” 

Caleb’s face darkened, but not in the way of an enchantment taking hold, but in pure anger. When he turned around to face Ikithon, Fjord did not stop him. 

Fjord always imagined his own show-down with Uk’otoa featuring some hard truths, like his fight with Astrid. A powerful speech about how much he suffered and how much Uk’otoa will pay for it. 

If he had to replace himself with Caleb and Uk’otoa with Ikithon, he would expect it to go the same way. But that is not how it went down. 

Without any hesitation, Caleb cast his fireball that he canceled earlier, and sprung it forth without a single word for Ikithon. And maybe that was the best part - giving him no satisfaction. Even if Caleb told Ikithon all the ways the man had hurt him, Fjord knew that it wouldn’t affect Ikithon in the slightest.

The battle after that died down pretty quickly. Fjord could tell when Astrid found her way back to their plane of existence by the long wail of mourning that erupted on the field. Caleb extinguished the wall of fire and the Scourgers ran after that. 

Once it all died down, they regrouped. Caleb was slapped and hugged almost at the same time as the rest of the Mighty Nein welcomed him back. 

It was by the fire that night that Caleb found Fjord, tucking in beside him without a word shared between them. Silently, Caleb gripped his hand and laced their fingers, scars matched. Fjord gentled a kiss to the top of his head and they stayed that way for the night. 

Enough that Fjord knew he wasn’t going anywhere for a long time. 


End file.
